Chapter 49: Contemplating
I involuntarily took a step back from the founder of the Imperion Empire, my mind buzzing with a swarm of thoughts and emotions racing too quickly to identify. Fear and anger vied for control of my reactions, but for once, reason prevailed.
We maintained our stances for a moment. Kyran continued observing Thaleia. Something about their mutual gaze hinted at a prior acquaintance. I couldn't fathom how, given Kyran's age was synonymous with the Empire, and Thaleia was under a millennium old, however you counted.
Kyran broke the silence, "So, are you planning to stand up?"
Her eyes sparked with anger. She growled, "No, I'll stay right here indefinitely." Yes, I'm aware there's no sibilance in her words. It doesn't matter; she growled.
Kyran chuckled. "Very well," he said. "Should you ever wish to rise, feel free to approach me." He began to walk away, paused, and turned to look at me. For some reason, I couldn't meet his gaze. He asked, "Do you have anything to tell me?"
My tongue felt heavy. Words eluded me. Kyran departed.
Drevolan rose to his feet. Thaleia lay on the ground, sobbing softly. Drevolan and I awkwardly stared at our belt buckles. Eventually, Thaleia's sobs subsided; then she whispered, "Please, help me get up."
We did, Drevolan indicated a direction, and we resumed our halting journey. Opal was eerily quiet. I asked, "Something troubling you, buddy?"
"I just want to leave this place, boss."
"Same here."
I turned to Thaleia, "You appeared to recognize him."
She retorted, "You seemed to as well."
"I did?"
"Indeed."
I mulled over her response for a while before choosing not to probe further. Soon, two imposing structures came into view. We walked past these seeming monuments and found ourselves among the seats of the gods. We moved forward, not paying much attention to the beings we had nonchalantly bypassed.
After a while, Drevolan asked, "So, what's next?"
I retorted, "Are you asking me? Hold on, something just occurred to me."
"Yes?"
I scanned the surroundings and spotted a figure in a purple robe passing by. I called out, "You there, come over."
He approached us, seemingly respectful.
We exchanged a few words, and he nodded silently, his gaze vacant. He started guiding us, adjusting his strides to match ours. It was a long journey and we had to pause once or twice to let Thaleia rest.
Eventually, we reached a throne occupied by a woman appearing as white as marble, her eyes akin to shining diamonds. She held a spear. The robed guide bowed and left us.
The goddess spoke, "The living are not permitted here."
Her voice resonated like melodious chimes, bringing tears to my eyes. It took a moment to collect myself enough to respond, partly because I expected Drevolan to respond first. But I said, "I am Viktor Dravos. These are Drevolan and Thaleia. You are Thoralon?"
"I am."
Drevolan presented her with the disk given to us by the Tigryns. After studying it, she asked, "Alright, what do you desire?"
"One thing would be to exit," Drevolan responded.
"Only the deceased may exit," Thoralon stated. "And that's rare."
"There's Marya," Drevolan reminded.
Thoralon dismissed his claim. "I warned them it was a risky exception. Regardless, it's irrelevant to you."
Drevolan pleaded, "Could you supply us with food and a resting place while Thaleia regains her strength?"
"I can provide sustenance and shelter," she confirmed. "But remember, this is the land of the deceased. One does not recuperate here."
"Even sleep would be beneficial," Thaleia interjected.
"Those who sleep here," Thoralon warned, "do not awaken as living beings. Even Terrans," she added, giving me an inscrutable glance.
Sighing, I said, "Perfect," and suddenly felt a wave of fatigue.
Desperately, Drevolan asked, "Is there any assistance you could offer us?" It sounded like he was almost begging, which I would have found amusing under different circumstances.
Thoralon turned to Thaleia, saying, "Touch this." She extended her spear, much like Haze did for me. Thaleia complied without any hesitation.
I felt her weight lighten on me. Thoralon withdrew the spear, and Thaleia thanked her, "I appreciate your help."
Thoralon commanded, "Leave now."
I asked, "To where?"
Thoralon was about to respond, but Thaleia interrupted, "To seek Kyran."
I wanted to protest that he was the last person I wished to encounter at that moment, but Thaleia's determined expression made me hold my tongue. She detached from our support and, although a little unstable, began to walk independently. Drevolan and I bowed to Thoralon, who seemed mildly amused, then trailed behind Thaleia.
Thaleia located another figure in a purple robe and commanded, "Take us to Kyran."
Though I wished he couldn't, he simply bowed and started guiding us.
I would be hard-pressed to explain how we got there, but the figure in the purple robe guided us back to the ivory corridor that had initially led us to the divine presence. A previously unseen side passage materialized, and we followed it. The labyrinthine path eventually brought us to a room, stark white and empty, save for a plethora of lit candles and Kyran the Conqueror.
He was positioned with his back to the entrance, his head lowered, seemingly engrossed in some unknown activity around one of the candles. As we stepped in, he swiveled around and locked eyes with Thaleia.
"I see you're able to stand on your own."
"Yes," she replied. "And standing, I can convey how proud I am to come from the lineage of one who ridicules the afflicted."
"I'm delighted you feel pride, Thaleia d'Kyran."
Thaleia attempted to stand as tall as she could. "Don't"
"Do not assume to advise me," he interrupted. "You haven't earned that privilege."
"Are you certain?" she challenged. "I know you, Kyran. And if you don't know me, it's only because you're as oblivious as you've always been."
His gaze remained fixed on her, his facial muscles motionless. Then, his attention turned to me, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I kept my facial expression neutral. He queried, "So, Thaleia; what about him?"
"He's not your problem," Thaleia declared.
I whispered to Drevolan, "I just adore being discussed as if"
"Quiet, Viktor."
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